“And my brother, Corey.”
He retrieved a sauté pan from a lower cabinet, drizzled in some olive oil and set it on a burner. “Does he work for your father’s friend as well?”
“No, just me. Corey’s in college. It’s probably best if he doesn’t have to concentrate on a job till school is over.”
“You’ve been working as a location scout for several years, then. You must enjoy it.”
“Yeah, I guess,” she shrugged. “I get to see lots of beautiful places might not otherwise have seen.”
He raised an eyebrow and leveled her with a serious look. “You don’t say that with much conviction. Would you rather be doing something else?”
She smiled at his perception. “No, I do enjoy it. The photography part. But I’m always keeping my options open.”
“And the art school?”
“Love it.” She finished her wine and started peeling another carrot. She considered telling him what really made her excited. What she really wanted to do. But then what would be the point if she didn’t see him after tonight?
“What did you get your degree in?” he asked.
“I didn’t.”
“But you said you knew Martin through university.”
He remembered all that from the?—?
Damn.
The vegetable peeler slipped, slicing her forefinger instead of the carrot. She hissed a breath through her teeth as a small bead of blood welled up and dripped onto the counter. Dom was there almost before the stinging pain registered in her brain, grabbing her hand and cupping it gently in his. A strange tingling sensation moved up her arm. The cut wasn’t deep enough to be numb, was it?
“Are you all right?” Another drop of blood trickled from her finger, but onto his hand this time.
She pulled away quickly. “I’m sorry. Do you have a paper towel or something? Here, let me clean this up.”
Ignoring her request, he grasped her elbow and swept her around the island to the kitchen faucet. His arms went around her, his muscular biceps encasing her, and he pushed her hand under the stream of water. Every inch of her back, from her shoulders to her buttocks, was pressed to the muscular plane of his warm torso. She felt his warm breath in her hair.
“Hold your finger under the cold water. Yes, like that. I’ll get a bandage from?—”
“No, really. I’m fine.” She put her finger in her mouth and cranked her head up to look at him. In this light, the blue of his eyes looked a little darker. “See? It’s no big deal.” But when she pulled it out, the blood oozed again.
In a heartbeat, he pulled her finger to his lips, and the breath stalled in her throat.
Oh, my Lord.
His mouth was hot and when his tongue slid against the pad of her finger, she shivered, a delicious heat pooling low in her belly. Teeth grazed against?—
Suddenly, he pulled away from her and strode out of the kitchen. “It needs a bandage,” he called gruffly over his shoulder, his steps heavy on the wood floor as if he were eager to get away.
She held her hand to her chest, her finger still moist from his mouth. Then she heard a door slam shut somewhere down the hallway. Leaning against the counter, she closed her eyes. What just happened?
“Better?”
Startled, she jumped. She hadn’t heard him return. “Um, yeah. It doesn’t sting any longer, and it’s...a... Gosh, I can’t even see it.”
“Let me put a bandage on it just to be safe.” He took her back to her seat. A piece of damp hair hung in his face as heconcentrated on her finger. Was that sweat on his forehead? She looked at him more closely. No, she didn’t think so. Water, maybe.
“So, where were we?” He returned to the other side of the island, refilled her wineglass, and began sautéing the onions. “You were just about to tell me why you didn’t get your degree.”
It took her a few moments to collect her thoughts. Her need to keep things shallow and less emotional didn’t seem to be as important as it usually was.
